


Competition

by Jay_eagle



Series: Smutty Sunday [5]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Aerobatics AU, Fight Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU written for a Smutty Sunday prompt - "slick/kitchen table/shut up" in which Herc and Douglas are competing aerobatics pilots who might outwardly detest each other but inwardly seem to find each other rather... delectable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Competition

“Shut up, you slick git.” Douglas stepped forwards, crowding Herc against the kitchen table. “You know you only won because the judges were feeling generous.”

 

“Generous?” Herc’s dark eyes glinted mockingly into Douglas’ own. “I wouldn’t say pulling off a 720 degree barrel roll with only 400 metres of altitude necessitated any concessions from the scorers.”

 

Douglas growled, deep in his throat, caging Herc against the table with a hand gripping it either side of Herc’s hips. “Show-off.”

 

“It’s aerobatics, Douglas.” Herc arched an eyebrow, and moved forwards just fractionally – a shift that ought to have seemed defiant, but which they both felt all too well allowed Herc to rub his crotch up against Douglas’ own. “It’s not an arena for the shy and retiring.”

 

“Nor is it an arena for the overconfident and cocky.” Douglas’ hand gripped Herc’s waist, then slid to his arse, groping firmly.

 

“Must be why you lost, today.” Herc’s eyes flicked between Douglas’ mouth and his heated stare, Herc’s tongue flicking out to lick his lips almost unconsciously.

 

“I’ll show you cocky.” Douglas tugged, and crushed Herc’s figure to him, fingers scrabbling urgently at his shirtfront, yanking it out of his trousers to run hands inside the cotton, feeling the taut muscle jumping under his touch as Herc responded by kissing him bruisingly fiercely.

 

“Up,” Douglas ordered, and lifted Herc bodily onto the table, knocking aside a mug that shattered unheeded on the floor. Herc didn’t stop kissing him, writhing beneath the press of Douglas’ chest and stomach, wrapping demanding ankles around Douglas’ arse to tug him still closer in.

 

Douglas groaned, biting at Herc’s lip, and Herc delivered a stinging slap to Douglas’ side in retaliation. Douglas thrust against him, working a frantic hand between them to free their trapped cocks, allowing them to slide skin-on-skin for the first time.

 

“Faster,” Herc grunted, and seized Douglas’ head, holding him still as he kissed him again and again.

 

“Bossy bastard,” Douglas snapped, but did as bidden, leaving fingernail-shaped indentations in Herc’s shoulders as he ground them together, friction dry and burning.

 

Herc came first, with a stuttered oath and head thrown back to allow Douglas’ teeth to nip at his throat. Douglas followed not a minute later, legs trembling as he battled with his climax to stay on his feet. After a moment, he pushed himself upright, staggering back in disarray to lean on the worktop, arms folded in a transparent effort to look nonchalant.

 

“So?” Douglas asked, as Herc mopped at his stomach with a little grimace.

 

“I need a shower.” Herc tucked himself away, an insouciant smile crossing his face.

 

Douglas rolled his eyes. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting company.”

 

“Naturally.”

 

Douglas sighed, but it was a poor act, and he knew it. “Come on then.” He turned, and they sauntered upstairs together.

 

“I still won.”

 

“Sod off.”


End file.
